I love spring, I hate spring

I suffer from migraines approximately once a year. Every single instance I can recall has been in the spring, on a sunny day, as the weather was getting nice. Last year, in about April, I just about blacked out at work and walked smack into the printer, which caused some consternation among my colleagues. In 2008, around the same time, I was migraine-prone for about a week. Actually, that year, there was an exception to the once-every-12-months rule: I got another migraine in November. However, it was after having traveled to Florida for a conference, en route to spring in South America.

In 2007, I got a migraine in May or so and had to get Imitrex from my brother, who suffers from them a tad a more frequently. In 2003, I got one just before spring term final’s week, in Oregon. In 1997, I got one after a first (chilly) tanning session in our back yard. In 1996, I nearly blacked out in Easter choir after softball practice. As a kid, I remember sleeping in the back of the car because we were going somewhere on a nice day and I got one.

Today I started getting one again. Winter has been mild, and spring has come early. Great, but not so great for my head. Catching it early, I drank coffee and swallowed a tiny bit of Imitrex and went to bed with a black-out wrap around my eyes for a few hours, pushing out all stimulation for the lovely soft blankness of quiet sleep, and then made sure I was cold when I walked back to work with sunglasses on. So far it appears to be working.

It does seem odd that even with all the modern trappings of our existence, we can be thus at the mercy of the weather. Although I keep it safe from harmful rays and blizzards and spend the winter heated and the summer cooled, my body is more tied to the biorhythms of the earth than I give it credit for.